what I was going to suggest you do.”
“Well, for God’s sake, come on in,” Michelle said, glaring at her husband and giving him a little-girl pout. “It’s freezing out there and our gas bill is already too high.”
Reluctantly, Lucky stepped away from the door and Alvarez stomped snow off her boots before crossing the threshold and walking into a room filled with Christmas decor. Along with the pink flocked tree, there were lights strung over the mantel and candles taking precedence over the hunting and sports magazines strewn over the tables. Ceramic elves with big eyes, drooping hats, and, in Alvarez’s opinion, wicked, leering smiles were tucked between table legs and on windowsills.
“So you haven’t seen Regan since…?”
“Last week sometime when we picked up the kids,” Lucky said.
“Friday,” Michelle chimed in as she waved Selena toward the cluster of chairs near an unlit fireplace where inside the firebox, dangling dangerously over the charred logs, a plastic Santa’s boot was visible, as if Old St. Nick were actually climbing down the chimney. “In the afternoon.”
“But you talked with her since.” She caught a glimpse of the local news on the television where there was running footage of a woman being forced into a squad car. Breaking news from Spokane, Washington, the running caption read. Suspect arrested in the Star-Crossed Serial Killer homicide investigation.
She perched on the edge of a blue side chair while her partner’s ex-husband took up what appeared to be his usual spot on the couch. Cisco, traitor that he was, hopped up beside Lucky and turned his beady eyes on Alvarez.
“Yeah. Yesterday. When she found out the kids were with me.” His gaze wandered to the television. “Looks like you caught the guy, huh?”
“Remains to be seen.”
“Maybe Regan took off for Spokane to be part of the bust.”
“Then the sheriff’s office would know where she was,” Bianca sneered, though she chewed nervously on her lower lip.
“What did she say?” Alvarez asked, bringing Lucky back to the conversation.
“On the phone?”
Selena nodded.
He shrugged. “That she was on her way. I’d told her I…well, that Michelle and I wanted full custody of Jeremy and Bianca, and Regan went ballistic. Told me she was coming over, and to get the kids and the dog ready.”
“Did she show up?”
“No.” He looked away from Alvarez’s steady gaze. “I figured she’d cooled off. Changed her mind.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. She does that, y’know.” He was irritated now, paying a little more attention. “It’s not like she hasn’t said one thing and done another before. It’s kind of her M.O.”
“Yeah,” Michelle agreed.
“You’re her partner. You must know what a hot-head she can be,” Lucky said.
“Seems to me she’s been pretty rock-steady where the kids are concerned.” For the first time Selena noticed that Pescoli’s son hadn’t joined the party. “Is Jeremy here?”
“Nah, he went into town.”
“In this?” she asked, hitching her chin toward the window and the storm raging outside.
“He’s nearly eighteen, been driving in snow ever since he got his license. It’s nothing. I loaned him my truck ’cuz we left his at her house.” As if a sudden thought occurred to him, he said, “You said you checked there at her place?”
“She’s not there and her Jeep is missing.”
“And she’s not answering her phone?” Leaning across the couch for the handheld, he dialed a number, as if he could reach his ex-wife when the entire sheriff’s department couldn’t. When that didn’t work, he pounded out a new set of numbers, then as he listened, said, “You probably tried her cell?”
“Yes,” Selena answered carefully.
Frowning, he waited, then, obviously hearing Pescoli’s voicemail recording, hung up and stared at the phone.
“Dad?” Bianca asked, her voice quavering slightly. “Where’s Mom?”
“Oh, probably with some loser guy she picked up—”
“Lucky, don’t—” Michelle warned, her perfect, pink lips puckering into a knot of disapproval.
Maybe she isn’t so bad after all.
“But you can find her, right?” Bianca said, glancing from her father to Alvarez.
“Of course,” Selena said, though she didn’t like her odds. “Why don’t you tell me what happened when she called yesterday.”
He glowered out the window, watching as the snowflakes fell relentlessly from the obscured heaven. “We had a fight on the phone. That’s no news flash. I thought she’d come barging in here ready for bear, but when she never showed I figured she’d decided to take some time to cool off. It’s almost Christmas. She was eyeball deep in all this crap about the serial killer, so I thought she’d just chilled. Believe it or not, that happens, too.”
A timer went off in the kitchen.
Michelle, as if she’d been sitting on coiled springs, shot out of her chair and hotfooted it past a crowded dining room table and through an archway.
Bianca looked at her dad. “Mom’s okay, right?”
“’Course she is,” Lucky said, flashing a smile that radiated confidence.
Alvarez’s cell phone went off and she climbed to her feet and walked to the entryway, to give herself a little privacy. “Alvarez,” she said, grabbing another tissue from her pocket, and heard Undersheriff Cort Brewster’s voice on the other end.
“We got a signal off of Pescoli’s vehicle coming from up on Horsebrier Ridge.” Alvarez’s stomach dropped. She’d driven over the ridge on her way from Regan’s house to here. “Rule’s already on the scene and spotted the vehicle. Wrecked, buried in the snow. We’ve got another unit headed that way, the towing company alerted.”
Alvarez sneaked a glance over her shoulder. Bianca was staring at her wide-eyed while Lucky was tuned in to the news. Oh, God, what a mess.
“Anyone see the driver?” she asked, her voice low.
“Not yet.” His voice was grim. “Rule claims at least twelve inches of snow over the vehicle. He can’t tell how badly it’s wrecked or if anyone’s inside.”
“I’m on my way,” she said, digesting what the undersheriff had said as well as what he hadn’t. The temperature in that wrecked car would have been far below freezing last night and if Regan hadn’t gotten out…
She
